#(i know the Radiance is a moth but She has feathers so close enough)

[nooooough]

[mveloc]

Pure Radiance

Chapter 25: Epilogue

Author’s Note: Here it is! It’s finally finished. What a bittersweet feeling. I’ll be taking a bit of a break from this universe before I jump into the sequel, but I’m happy to have it finished... for now ;) In the meantime, I’ll be tackling my other fic, Days of Why and How. Thank you all so much for the overwhelming support with this fic. I know vampire stuff isn’t everyone’s cup of tea (it isn’t even really mine), but you all took a chance with the concept and I’m glad you’ve all come to find as much joy in reading it as I have in writing it. A heads up that this chapter will be NSFW--I mean, this one sort of has to go out with a bang, huh? As always, feedback is greatly appreciated. I hope you’re all satisfied with the conclusion :)

“Congratulations, Doctor Cormier.”

I smile, zipping my bag closed and slinging it over my shoulder as I prepare to call it an evening. Somewhere in my quiet chest I feel a jolt of sheer anticipation—of exhilaration—as I allow my previously denied fantasies to play out in full inside the safety of my head for the very first time.

You see, fantasies are dangerous things.

They distort the truth and fill you with a false sense of hope; they lead naive girls to dark men and longer, darker nights; they leave you peering through a window, chasing light like a weary moth. I had thought I’d learned my lesson about entertaining my fantasies long ago, but then one day I miraculously found myself on the other side of that window with a little flame of my own that I was desperate to keep alight. Now that flame is a great, raging fire and instead of shying away from the inferno, I lean into its heat.

“Thank you,” I reply, offering my colleague a nod.

I try to remain humble.

I have every reason to boast, to declare my genius to the world like Aldous did at every given opportunity, but instead I keep my excitement to myself, bottling it up tightly for now so it can be saved for later; there is only one other it can be shared with, after all.

“Eager to try it for yourself before it hits the market?” Marcus asks with a knowing smile, removing his frames from his face to clean his lenses with his lab coat.

“Well, I’m still waiting on board approval—”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that,” he winks.

I know he’s right.

I know the process will be a long and drawn out one full of much bureaucracy, but no one can deny that I’ve been able to accomplish what Aldous could not. Once the board learns that I’ve effectively neutralized the sun and opened up the entire world to our kind, I suspect even more doors will open for Cosima and myself.

But none of that matters to me now.

This isn’t about the board, about feeding them the news they’ve spent years anxiously waiting for. This is about fulfilling the promise that I made to Cosima and I could weep with joy just knowing that she’ll walk in sunlight again, that I’ll see her skin illuminated in its light with my own eyes for the very first time.

“You know, Doctor Leekie also used to insist on testing each batch himself,” Marcus comments.

I know his words are meant to reassure me, that he doesn’t know the history or the circumstance behind Aldous’s demise, but any comparison to my late sire leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

“Oh, this isn’t for me,” I say, gesturing toward my bag. “Well… not entirely.”

Marcus smiles again.

“Ah, that’s right,” he nods in understanding. “Send her my regards.”

“I will.”

+ + + + +

The peace that we’ve established is still something I’m not quite used to.

After removing Aldous from the picture, I wasn’t sure what to expect from Marion or the coven. I had maintained my end of our bargain by assuming my sire’s role and continuing with his scientific endeavours, but a part of me had still expected Marion to go back on her word and for the coven to come after us.

Instead, I’ve been met with nothing but accommodation.

I know better than to trust it or to rely on Marion and the coven, but for now, I welcome it. So long as I continue to provide for them, I’m granted as much freedom as I could hope for in my current position. My interaction with the coven has been limited, much to my delight. I deal with Marion directly and she’s demonstrated a surprising level of respect for the boundaries I’ve erected; I’m contacted only when a status report is required and our relationship revolves strictly around our business. She’s even provided me with a generous new living arrangement—a bid to buy into my good graces, I’m sure—but I could hardly refuse the gorgeous penthouse suite upon seeing Cosima’s reaction to the glorious view of the skyline from behind the tinted, floor-to-ceiling windows.

As I ascend to our apartment in our private elevator, the anticipation becomes almost unbearable. I shift and twitch beneath its pressure, trying my best to keep my pokerface. I’ve dreamt of this moment, plotted the entire thing out in my mind, and I don’t want my eagerness to spoil it.

The doors chime open and I emerge into the home we’ve made for ourselves. The low hum of deep, mellow electronic music plays out over the speakers and fills our apartment, signalling to me that my lover is, in fact, home. I grin, unslinging my bag with its precious cargo from my shoulder and hanging it on the coat rack near the door. I divest myself of my coat and boots and begin my search—a search which is cut short the moment I notice the multiple books and papers strewn all across the rug on the living room floor.

My smile stretches.

She has access to her own office and yet she still insists on sprawling out across the floor when she works, same as always. She doesn’t seem to notice my approach or if she does, she says nothing, her nose buried in a textbook.

“Bonsoir, mon amour.”

She pauses upon hearing my voice, tearing her eyes away from her book for the first time in hours. A satisfied grin adorns her immaculate face as she rolls from her stomach onto her back, tucking her hands behind her head and looking up at me with a hint of amusement.

“Oh. Hey.”

I lower myself to my knees, straddling her waist and matching her expression. She chuckles, gently stroking my thighs until I lean down in search of her lips. I’m greeted halfway, our mouths connecting softly. I teasingly run my tongue along her bottom lip and elicit that tiny groan I’ve come to expect, trying to coax her desire out of dormancy.

“You’ve been busy, I see,” I comment, gesturing to the chaotic state of our living room which is littered with her books and notes.

She nods, giving my thighs a gentle squeeze.

“Yeah. I have a lot to catch up on.”

She stirs beneath me and I move to accommodate her, allowing her to slip out of my grasp. She rolls back onto her stomach, gathering some of the notes within her immediate reach into a pile. She tucks the pile into her textbook, using the papers as a bookmark before closing it.

“Now that I know I’m not gonna eat my classmates, I figured maybe I can start school again—maybe take night classes or something,” she shrugs.

Even though she’s been out of school for some time, a mind as inquisitive as hers simply cannot be subdued and now that we’re both confident in her ability to control her hunger, she can be reintroduced to the world properly.

“That won’t be necessary,” I tell her, unable to conceal my widening grin.

“Hm?”

She turns onto her side to spy me out of her periphery and arches an eyebrow in my direction, caught in confusion. I smother it quickly, covering her petite body with my own. I twist her onto her back and press her gently beneath me, the plush rug absorbing our combined weight. I bring my lips to her ear, nibbling gently at the shell as she tries to suppress the tremor that rolls through her.

“I have a surprise for you,” I whisper.

“Mmm… what kind of surprise?” she plays along, running her fingers through my hair.

I have many surprises in store for her this evening.

I have even more in store for her in the morning.

“It’ll have to wait just a little longer—the timing’s not quite right,” I tease, pressing a kiss behind her ear.

She whines, though I quickly rectify her disappointment.

“In the meantime…,” I begin, my pale hands with a mind of their own finding the waistband of her pants.

She giggles, her hips bucking in anticipation as I quickly tug the drawstring of her lounge pants loose.

“You know, I could use a study break.”

Her playfulness spurs me onward and I growl, digging my teeth into the tantalizing flesh of her neck. My fangs only prick the surface, not nearly deep enough to drain her—merely to tease, to remind her who owns her heart… not that she needs any reminders if the wetness that’s already beginning to gather between her legs is any indication.

She sighs as I run my fingers through her heat, urging her to shimmy out of her pants. I fasten my lips to hers again and she reaches to her side, fumbling blindly, knocking her book out of the way to clear space for us. The bed would surely be more comfortable and I’m certain that we’ll make it over there eventually, but the thought of taking her on the floor in front of the glow of the fireplace preoccupies every corner of my mind until my thirst for her becomes downright biological.

She struggles against me—not in an act of defiance, but rather the opposite; she knows how deeply I adore this game and she willingly plays the ocean to my moon, allowing me only brief tastes before she’s pulling back again, daring me to stretch her even further next time. I grow deliciously frustrated each time our tongues connect, each time she turns her head away and breaks our lips apart just as I find myself sinking into our kisses. She denies me all momentum, denies my burning hands as they wickedly seek out her most revered parts only for her to capture my wrists and relocate them.

“You’re driving me crazy,” I groan, my body nearly quaking with restraint.

“You love it,” she dismisses me, her fingers working at the buttons of my blouse while she peppers my jawline with feather-light kisses.

She opens the garment and pushes it down my shoulders. I shift, shedding the blouse and tossing it aside. I watch her do the same, pulling her own sweater over her head and exposing herself to me. I’m immediately greeted with an eyeful, grateful I don’t have to find my way around her bra, as well. I pause to take in the sight of her sprawled out beneath me in nothing but a flimsy pair of underwear and I feel my center pulse achingly.

“I do,” I admit with a tint of laughter to my voice. “But if you keep teasing me like this, I can’t be held responsible for what might happen.”

“And what’s going to happen?” she goads, eyebrows raised and smirk half-cocked. “Cause from where I’m lying… it looks like a whole lot of nothing.”

She wriggles her hips, mocking me further and calling my bluff.

Only it isn’t a bluff.

“What’s going to happen,” I begin, my voice low as I find my fire again and pin her wrists down on either side of her head. “Is that I’m going to fuck you.”

Her seduction, while magnetic and all-consuming, still remains tinged in a playfulness that’s a product of her youth. Like a child with a secret too big to keep, her desire shines through in the subtlest of hints; an arched brow, dancing fingertips, a tongue poking out from behind her teeth once it’s retreated after a witty jab. I find myself completely lost in the gestures, desperate and aching for more.

She strains against my grip, craning her neck forward until her lips are ghosting over mine.

“Then you’re gonna have to work a little harder,” she dares, her voice husky.

I can taste the words.

They’re hot against my lips despite their absence of breath; perhaps it’s the mischievous glimmer in her eyes which fuel them. Her lashes flutter and her grin continues to spread when she realizes she has me ensnared.

I throw my full weight into our kiss, pressing her into the soft, forgiving fibres beneath us. Her giggles turn into sighs which elevate to moans the second my lips abandon hers in pursuit of greater sweetness. As my lips begin to trail down her neck, over her collarbone, finding her breasts, she rakes her claws down my back and I hiss, bucking into her.

“Is this hard enough?” I purr.

I thrust my hips into her again, grabbing one of her knees and prying her open even wider to receive my attentions. She arches up to meet me, grinding her barely-clothed center against me.

“You can go harder.”

I freeze.

Looking down and searching her gaze, I maneuver my way through the fog of her desire until I’m faced with the true intent behind her words. My own eyes twitch slightly at the realization and she teases me again with a quick flash of her tongue from behind her teeth. She presses a kiss to the corner of my lips, confirming my suspicions.

I release her.

“Stay.”

My voice is gruff and strained as I stand and when I stare down at her on the floor, she twists her body in anticipation, dragging her fingertips down the valley of her breasts, her stomach—teasing me. I hurry into our bedroom, anxious to resume our activities. I shed the rest of my clothes as I make a beeline toward the dresser, crouching to reach for the bottom drawer and pull it open. I remove the discreet black box and pull the lid off, my lips twitching upward into a smile when I find what I’m looking for.

Amongst the rest of our toys I find the leather harness, the silicone phallus. It takes me a couple of minutes to get myself situated—usually Cosima helps me in this endeavour, but I’m a grown woman with a PhD and the current head of the DYAD Institute, so I’m certain I can figure it out with a little bit of effort.

My mind wanders back to the day we made this purchase; it was something we had talked about before, something she was far too eager to try. She’d never had a man before—never even knew if she would like it—but the budding scientist in her was unable to dismiss the thought from her mind. She had cheerfully dragged me to the store and on the clerk’s recommendation, we had picked out the most expensive harness they carried and a suitable toy—smooth and moderately-sized.

It was as good a place as any to start.

I had been reluctant at first, my fear being that I would find the experience too disjointed, though on the contrary, I find it to be strangely intimate; watching her eyes widen and glaze as I fill her to the brim, feeling the resistance as I plunge into her, hearing her keen as she clenches around the sturdy piece of silicone… it’s enough of a reward to pay for the equipment a hundred times over.

When I reappear in the living room with my new appendage, I find her sprawled out on the couch, underwear removed. She smiles when she notices me, her eyes shifting between my gaze and the toy, her fingers wandering the plains of her body.

“Brat,” I mutter, approaching her slowly. “You don’t listen very well, do you?”

She stands, attempting to close some of the gap in our height.

“You didn’t say Simon says,” she teases, her hand finding the appendage.

She grips it tightly, giving it a firm tug and causing my eyes to nearly roll back in my head.

“You don’t want to play games with me, Cosima—not now,” I growl, my hands finding her hips.

“Wrong,” she laughs, wrapping her arms around my neck and bringing her lips to my ear. “I wanna play all kinds of games with you.”

I pounce, her words taunting the beast into action. She’s grown strong enough now that she could put up a more challenging fight than before, but I’m met with no resistance as I pin her to the ground. She seems to delight in my aggression, a deep and throaty laugh escaping her as I walk head-first and willing into the trap she’s set for me. Gripping her hips roughly, I maneuver her body until she’s perched on all fours in front of me. Her head hangs low until I trail my lips down the column of her spine and she sighs blissfully, lifting her head again so that I can catch her gaze in the glow of the fireplace, our eyes locking in the glass doors.

I grip the sturdy toy which dangles from between my legs, using the tip to tease at her entrance from behind. A tremor tears through her as I coat it in her wetness and I find my lips pulling into a smile once more.

“But this is what you want the most, isn’t it?” I ask.

Once I’m lined up, I grip her hips tightly and leave her dangling on the precipice. As aroused as I am in the moment, I refuse to continue until she learns the rules of my game. I chuckle as I watch her try to hold out, to prolong the seduction. I reach up the length of her back with one hand, finding her braids and forcing her head back.

“Tell me,” I command, my voice harsh in her ear.

“Yes!”

She backs herself into me and I allow her to slide all the way down the length of the toy until her ass is nestled snuggly against my groin, the pressure sending a shock straight to my core. We both pause for a moment, satisfied groans slipping out of our mouths in unison. I never feel so complete as when I’m buried inside of her, evoking such sweet sounds from her lips.

When we’re both ready to move again, I begin with a steady rhythm; I dig my fingers into her hips deep enough to leave crescent-shaped marks in her skin and work my way in and out with long, languid strokes that I accentuate with a swivel of my hips each time I feel the toy reach her innermost depths. She clutches the pile of the rug beneath her and quivers like a leaf in the wind every time I hit her sweet spot.

I work her slowly and surely like this until I sense a crack beginning to form in her demeanour. While I’m perfectly content to carry on like this for hours—until the sheen of sweat which coats our bodies begins to drip from the exertion and the sound of our skin slapping together deafens us to all other noise—I know that our bodies will break long before our wills do. This night is supposed to be about fulfilling promises and so I know it isn’t right to draw out the exquisite torture for longer than necessary.

And I’d say we’ve reached the point of necessity.

“Harder,” she pleads.

My thrusts become more hurried, more forceful as I continue to slam into her from behind over and over, giving her no time to recover or prepare herself for my onslaught. Her moans grow louder until she can no longer support herself on both her hands and knees; her arms wobble before she forfeits, burying her face in the rug with her ass still raised to receive me. There’s something so visceral about having her this way that I can’t help the low growl that emanates from my throat; my eyes bleed black and my fangs unsheathe themselves. Even though she’s unable to see me from her position, she can sense my shift and she matches it with her own, forcing herself back against me to grind against the toy so that the base presses against my burning sex.

“F-Fuck…,” I hear her drawl.

I find more resistance each time I enter her and she clutches me every time I pull out, as if she’s desperate to be filled—her body hungry to be whole. I abandon my grip on her hips to stretch myself over her body like a brand new layer of skin, hugging her from behind as I continue to plough into her with a little less grace each time.

“Tu es—tu es mon monde,” I tell her, nearly choking on the words as I feel a white heat begin to spread through me.

I sink my fangs into the flesh of her trapezius and she cries out, the sound of her voice filling my whole world before the heat overtakes me completely and I collapse into her.

The universe stalls.

It takes me several minutes to regain my bearings and once I do, I press a lingering kiss to site of my lover’s bite and roll off of her, joining her on the floor.

“Mmm… how do you do that?” she asks me with a weakened grin, turning her head towards me ever-so-slightly so she can read my expression.

I laugh.

“I was about to ask you the same question,” I say honestly.

She inches closer, pressing her lips to mine to remind me that we’re both still here. I luxuriate in the moment, suspended, until she pulls away again. I whine as I watch her find her feet, somehow pulling herself to a standing position.

“How can you even move right now?” I ask, looking up at her both amazed and amused.

She positions herself over me, a foot on either side of my waist. She beams down on me with her head cocked to the side.

“Don’t tell me you’re a one-and-done,” she teases. “I know you can do better than that.”

She’s right.

We’ve certainly had much longer nights of passion and while I have no intention of calling it an evening just yet, I need another minute to find my bones and will them back into solid form.

“You sound quite confident for someone who was just fucked into the floor,” I throw back at her.

It’s her turn to laugh.

“Maybe I have my own surprises for you,” she winks.

My attention piqued, I sit up.

She laughs once more, sauntering away from me towards our bedroom.

“Come to bed.”

+ + + + +

“Mmmm… tired,” she groans, rolling over onto her side to bury her face in a pillow.

She looks so blissful and relaxed that I have half a mind to let her depart into her well-deserved slumber, but I will not miss my grand opportunity.

“Not yet,” I whisper, planting kisses along her shoulder blades.

“Hm?”

“You can’t sleep just yet.”

She rolls over, prying an eye open to regard me curiously.

“Why not?” she asks. “It’s nearly dawn.”

I grin back at her.

“Exactly.”

Both eyes open this time. Her brow furrows and she sits up.

“You’re gonna have to cut it with the cryptic talk. I have no idea what you’re getting at.”

I fight the urge to pull her face toward me and shower her with kisses.

“Come for a walk with me,” I say softly.

She pauses.

“Very funny,” she deadpans.

I could try to explain to her what I mean, but words seem too modest to describe what it is I’m offering. Instead I drag myself from the comfort of my bed, finding my robe hanging on the closet door and wrapping myself in it.

“Where are you going?” she asks.

I ignore her, vanishing into the living room in search of the bag I discarded earlier. I dig through it, finding the plastic receptacle which houses my gift. With trembling hands, I carry it back to the bedroom to deliver it to my love.

She has found her glasses, her face illuminated by the glow of the bedside lamp.

“Here.”

I hand her the receptacle and she stares at me, completely lost in her confusion. She accepts my gift anyway, inspecting it closely.

“What is this?” she asks.

I open my mouth to explain, only the words escape me. Emotion finds me instead and my lower lip quivers; I watch her open it, revealing two syringes and a vial.

“This is our future, Cosima.”

It takes her a second to reach realization but once she does, her eyes widen and lips tremble, as well.

“Do… do you mean…?”

She desperately searches my expression for answers and when I respond with a reassuring smile, her eyes begin to swell.

“Hold out your arm,” I instruct, retrieving the vial and one of the syringes.

Without a moment’s hesitation, she presents her elongated arm to me. I fill the syringe with the liquid from the vial—the culmination of my life up until this point—and inject a generous dose into her.

Once I’m done with Cosima, I use the other syringe and repeat the process with myself.

“Is it working?” she asks, shooting up from the bed. “I don’t feel any different.”

She’s pacing around the bedroom now, staring at her arm expectantly.

“It is,” I say, trying not to laugh at her eagerness. “I promise.”

Aldous has spent years working on this serum and I’ve spent the last eight months perfecting it. I wanted to wait until I was completely certain that I was successful before presenting it to her; I couldn’t bear to raise her hopes only to smash them to pieces if my efforts were in vain.

She waits another minute, running her hands along her skin as if she’s waiting for something incredible to happen.

“Are you sure?”

I crawl from our bed, walking purposely toward the balcony. As I reach for the handle to the sliding door, she nervously retreats deeper into our bedroom.

“Delphine, wait!”

I pull the door open and the world seeps in.

It’s light is gentle.

I take a bold step over the threshold, crossing over onto the balcony.

I look up at the sky; the sun is just beginning to crawl above the skyline and I close my eyes, allowing its warmth to embrace me.

There are no flames this time, no searing pain.

There is only silence and a great calmness.

“Come,” I call to her.

She follows in my footsteps, crossing the threshold and stepping out into the world like a fawn finding its legs for the first time. She’s weary at first, but the moment she realizes that I’m unscathed—that her skin isn’t being stripped from her—everything shifts.

It’s the most glorious thing I’ve ever seen.

The sun washes over the gentle curves of her body, basking her in its glow like a firefly along the lake at night. Her expression shifts many times over the span of a few seconds—from fear to relief to utter joy to something that’s unnameable to me.

“D-Delphine… I’m…”

Apparently the feeling is just as unnameable to her, as well.

I seek her out, closing the distance between us. My hands cup her face and I lean forward, pressing my forehead to hers. We both close our eyes, both allow ourselves to slip into the moment and stay lost.

“I never thought… I never thought I’d see it again,” she admits through silent tears.

I brush them away with the pads of my thumbs.

“I knew I would.”

There was a time I felt the same way.

My nights had grown so long that I had given up on morning altogether… and then she appeared. Suddenly, my impossibly long nights became far too short as she filled them with a sense of purpose that simply refused to expire with the break of dawn; stars filled my skies again and wonder returned to my world.

That’s when I knew that our nights would never be enough.

That’s when I knew I would find the light again, no matter what the cost.

If only to see her shine.